


refraction, reversed

by Anonymous



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Exes, M/M, Rival singers, implied mutual pining, seonghwa has longish hair :D, undefined history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “You’d be better off using your creepy memory on someone who’d be more grateful for it,” Hongjoong says, and Seonghwa laughs. “I can’t be bothered to remember what you like to drink.”“Can’t be bothered to remember…” Seonghwa asks, raising an eyebrow, “or just pretending not to?”Hongjoong sips at his drink in silence, and Seonghwa smiles thinly before changing the subject. “Aren’t you curious about the release date of my album, Hongjoong?” he asks. “And whether it’ll coincide with yours?”
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 210
Collections: Anonymous





	refraction, reversed

Hongjoong taps his fingers impatiently on his thigh as Seonghwa sits down and slides a cup across the table towards him. He’s uneasy, but he’s made sure that it’s practically undetectable in his face because Seonghwa always stares a tad too long whenever Hongjoong’s good luck runs out and they somehow run into each other yet _again_. Knowing how persistent Seonghwa can be when he wants proper closure, Hongjoong would be inclined to suspect their coincidental meetings are more planned than they are accidental, but they’re also working in the same industry so he can’t make random accusations. 

Hongjoong can put up a wall to block everyone out, even Seonghwa, yet Seonghwa is the type of pest who always finds some way to get back in. 

“Caramel latte with practically no caramel syrup, just a bit,” Seonghwa says, although he doesn’t need to announce it when Hongjoong had smelled the sweetness as soon as Seonghwa had approached. “Is that still your go-to coffee order?” 

The sleeves of Seonghwa’s gray cardigan are too long for him, and his fingers are barely visible as he tucks a lock of dark, wavy hair behind his ear. Hongjoong would nag at Seonghwa to roll his sleeves up so he doesn’t get them dirty, but he digs his nails into the denim of his own jeans instead before he says something uncharacteristic and unnecessary. Even if Hongjoong is stubborn, old habits are hard to break. 

“You’d be better off using your creepy memory on someone who’d be more grateful for it,” he says, and Seonghwa laughs. “I can’t be bothered to remember what you like to drink.” 

“Can’t be bothered to remember…” Seonghwa asks, raising an eyebrow, “or just pretending not to?” 

Hongjoong sips at his drink in silence, and Seonghwa smiles thinly before changing the subject. “Aren’t you curious about the release date of my album, Hongjoong?” he asks. “And whether it’ll coincide with yours?” 

“Does that have anything to do with me?” Hongjoong crosses his arms over his chest, annoyed. Seonghwa isn’t the type to provoke people with their weak spots, so he must have some sort of objective by saying something he knows will get a rise out of Hongjoong, albeit a quiet one. “Release your comeback after mine, asshole. You’re going to make the same amount of money either way.” 

“Careful,” Seonghwa warns. He’s gazing steadily at Hongjoong through his lashes, and Hongjoong feels heat crawl up the curve of his spine against his will. “What are people going to say if they realize you cursed at Park Seonghwa? I’m understanding because I know you don’t mean it, but netizens aren’t so open minded.” 

“You’re the nation’s sweetheart, Seonghwa,” Hongjoong revises, words now coated with false cheer where they were originally bare and unfiltered. “The rest of us have to utilize our timing, so play nice.” 

“What if I want to release music the same day as Kim Hongjoong, the nation’s composing, all around genius?” Seonghwa asks. His nails shimmer ever so slightly, painted a soft beige with very fine glitter, as he taps his fingers against his cheek, and Hongjoong does not think about the possibility that Seonghwa may still be using the nail polish Hongjoong had gifted him two years ago. “Wouldn’t it be lovely to have our promotion schedules overlap?” 

“Do whatever you want,” Hongjoong says. He’s too nervous for this, because he can’t pick out hidden agendas no matter how skeptical he is towards people, and despite them having separated for so long, he’s never been able to sit through a conversation with Seonghwa afterwards without feeling like he’s going to break out into hives. “I’m not bored enough to be playing games with you, since you’re going to do as you please even if someone begs you for mercy.” 

“I don’t play games with you,” Seonghwa says, softly. “You shut me out first, so I have to crack your shell every time if I want an honest reaction from you, before I can talk about what really matters.” 

“So what do you want this time?” Hongjoong asks. “Haven’t I done enough favors for you to have compensated for whatever wrongs you think I’ve committed against you?” 

The warmth in Seonghwa’s eyes disappears instantly, and the rest of his face is blank as he says, “It’ll be a long time before you can compensate for breaking up with me the way you did, Hongjoong.” Then he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, the iciness is gone, but Hongjoong’s guilt lingers even if Seonghwa is smiling brightly at him. “I don’t want a favor, this time. I’ll release my album a bit after yours, because my company has already been notified of your release date and we’ll be planning accordingly.” 

“Great,” Hongjoong says, standing up. His chair makes an awful scraping noise across the floor, but the discomfort of never being able to reveal the truth is louder in his head, and he’s spotted a few fans gathering outside at a distance from the cafe entrance which means they’ve spent too much time here. “Very generous of you.” 

And Hongjoong thinks that’s all there is to it, that Seonghwa had just wanted to see Hongjoong get a little flustered for his personal amusement, because he’s still mad that he hasn’t figured out why he hasn’t managed to keep Hongjoong by his side when most people would kill just to have a few moments of Park Seonghwa’s undivided attention. 

But then Seonghwa leans across the table to grab Hongjoong’s wrist and prevent him from leaving, and Hongjoong quickly realizes their conversation is far from over. 

“On two conditions,” Seonghwa says, which has Hongjoong narrowing his eyes. “Your contract is ending soon, right? I’ll make sure your new album gets all the attention it deserves if one, you promise to sign with my agency, and two, you make a song with me.” 

“Fuck you,” Hongjoong says. “There’s no way in hell—” 

“None of the songs you like the most, the songs that are your actual _style,_ have been approved for release,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong bristles at the mention of what he’s been struggling with for years. Discarded composition sheets, coffee stained pages of lyrics written at 3 AM that he’s afraid will never be heard by anyone, not even himself, half completed melodies that had been halted under the jurisdiction of the higher ups. “At my agency, you’d be able to produce whatever your heart desires and perform the songs you’re actually passionate about. Full artistic freedom, no variety schedules against your will, no rules about how you get to behave outside of working hours.”

“I’d have to see you, though,” Hongjoong says, venomously. 

“Which is only an added bonus,” Seonghwa says. 

“When are you going to stop trying to tie me to you?” Hongjoong hisses, trying to keep his voice from going shrill. “Isn’t it exhausting to chase after someone who’s no longer invested in you when you have so many fans who’d drop everything to go to you in a heartbeat?” 

“You’re wrong about that one, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says. He’s unbelievably calm, and Hongjoong is barely holding onto his composure, much too close to bursting into tears to still be standing in front of a man he’s not allowed to want as long as he dreams of standing on stage. 

“Wrong about what?” Hongjoong asks evenly. 

“You think I’m torturing you because I can’t forgive you for not wanting me when everyone else does,” Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong refuses to look at him. “I’ve never been that egotistical, Hongjoong.” 

_I know_ , Hongjoong thinks. Seonghwa can seem smug, and he has good reason to be, when he’s never been short of people willing to do anything for him, but underneath the self-assured front is a man afraid of being unlovable once the spotlight shifts away from him, terrified of being left alone in the dark with no real emotional connections to keep the people he loves in his life. 

“Rather than tying you to me, I’m freeing you so that whenever you’re ready, you can choose me again,” Seonghwa says, a sliver of vulnerability escaping in the tremble of his lip, and Hongjoong pretends not to see it. 


End file.
